


Robot Roleplay

by EllieRose101



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Season/Series 06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23099710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllieRose101/pseuds/EllieRose101
Summary: Buffy's attempt to get Spike back in the mood doesn't go to plan. (Set after Gone.)
Relationships: Spike/Buffy Summers
Kudos: 22





	Robot Roleplay

One Shot

Buffy may have been all visible again, but she wasn’t happy. And that unhappiness had nothing to do with her friends or heaven or anything. Spike had tossed her out on her ass and she still couldn’t believe it. He was the one person supposed to be there for her. The one she could rely on not to disappoint her and, yet, here she was moping alone in her room.

It would not do.

As much as she hated herself for being needy, the fact was that Buffy did need something and she knew exactly where to get it. It would be stupid not to at least try, right?

She groaned, not at all sure of anything. Because what if Spike said no again? She couldn’t bear it. Not just the humiliation, but – not that she would admit it to anyone, least of all Spike himself – but it would hurt. It _had_ hurt, the first time.

She was so sick of hurting.

There had to be a better way. She could get him drunk, she supposed, but that didn’t feel right. The fact that she was even thinking about it scared her. It wasn’t like herself but, then, wasn’t that the point? Spike made her forget about herself; forget about everything that wasn’t him and a happy swirly feeling. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t been Mr. Problematic himself in the past. But, still…. She sighed.

No. She wouldn’t get him drunk.

She groaned some more, tossed and turned, and then she had an idea. A brilliant idea. She jumped up and got dressed.

\---

Spike heard her long before he saw anything. Footsteps approached and he set down his novel to stare at the door. It opened slowly instead of swinging inward and slamming against the wall. That gave him pause, but what had him out of his seat and backing away with hands raised was the first glimpse of floaty pink skirt and bright, white smile.

Goddamn it, that bot was the most wretched thing in existence. _Besides myself, of course._

“What’s the matter, Spike? I’ve come to pleasure you.”

He opened his mouth to tell her to sod off – _again_ – but stopped short. Something wasn’t right.

Buffy caught the apprehension on his face and echoed it back at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked again, still forcing a smile but not pulling it off so well. When Spike only continued to stare, she dropped the smile entirely and sighed. “Okay. What gave me away?” She raised her hand to her head. “The new haircut, right?”

“And the scent,” said Spike. “And the heartbeat. And only your whole bloody demeanour.” He hadn’t noticed the scent and heartbeat the first time she’d played her little trick, but he’d had a broken nose full of his own blood and ears that had been recently boxed in. _Wasn’t exactly on top of my game._

Buffy’s hands went to her hips. “You’re disappointed. You totally prefer her to me, don’t you?”

“What?” _Has she completely gone sack-of-hammers?_

“The robot,” said Buffy. “You think she’s better than me.”

“Now hold on–” He put his hands down and scowled at her. “She’s nothing, Slayer. Not even a ‘her.’ An ‘it.’ And you’re….”

“What?” she challenged. “The _not quite so pleasant Buffy_?”

Spike took a deep breath and chose his words carefully. He’d have to do that more often. “The bot is nothing to me. Actually, no, scrap that. Worse than nothing. It’s pain. It’s….” He shook his head and had to still his breathing again. Eyes trained on the floor he admitted, “There are few things I regret more. Which is sayin’ something, you know?” He looked up again and took in Buffy’s frown. She didn’t know. Didn’t have any bleeding idea.

He tried again.

“When you were… gone,” he said quietly, “the bot made it all worse. It was torture to see it walking around, looking like you but not _being_ you. And that was all I wanted. Don’t you know that? Even before you found out and took it off my hands. I hadn’t been... it hadn’t been right. It wasn’t you. Bloody hell, Buffy. Nothing compares – not even remotely close.”

He looked at her again, trying to judge her reaction, but it was closed off. He so desperately wanted her to understand, but it was like there weren’t enough words in the world.

“Oh, my god,” she said, finally, her hand going to her mouth and eyes as wide as saucers. “This isn’t just all about sex to you.”

Spike stared at her, stunned.

“It’s really not,” said Buffy.

_Goddamn it!_ His nostrils flared. “Have I not told you that? How many times and how many ways can I say that I love you before you believe me?!”

Buffy shook her head, then it was her backing away. “No. No, you can’t.”

“Why can’t I?” he demanded, voice raised again. “Because I’m a demon? I don’t have a soul?”

“No,” Buffy said again, unshed tears in her eyes. “Not you. Me. Because I’m….” She trailed off again.

“Because you don’t love me back?” provided Spike. “Because you hate me? Because you’re damn infuriating? You’re definitely that last one.”

Buffy closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself. Very, very quietly she said, “I’m not loveable.”

The fire in Spike’s chest winked out. She really meant it. She really felt– but how? How could she think that?!

“Buffy, you’re the most loveable creature on this earth.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, shy. “I’m not.”

“You _are_ ,” he insisted. “As a bloke who’s seen a hell of a lot, I swear to you. Buffy….” He shook his head, annoyed that words still didn’t do it justice. Had this really been what it was about, all along?

“Buffy, I don’t have a soul. God knows I’m far from perfect, but even if someone as lowly as me can see it–”

“See what?” said Buffy, stepping close again. “What do you see when you look at me?”

“Bloody hell! The whole world! Sunshine and starlight, passion and goodness, and love. Everything a bloody robot can’t replicate. You’re Buffy, and I love you. _Love_ you, do you hear?”

She gasped again, taken aback. “You– you feel all that? For me?”

He breathed her in – the salt of her tears, the silk of her skin. “Only for you.”

“Oh,” she said on a breath. “Spike, I’m sorry.” 

His heart sank. Was this where she rejected him one last time? He supposed he’d expected it, but it burned like a bitch all the same. He tried to turn away but she touched a hand lightly to his arm. 

“Will you forgive me?” 

“Forgive?” he questioned, voice thick. 

“Last night,” said Buffy, “With the invisibility. I was out of line and I’m sorry. I didn’t realize–” she cut off the thought with a shake of her head. “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have treated you like that either way.”

Once more, Spike stared at her. She never stopped surprising him. Terrified beyond belief he asked, “Pray tell, how are you seeing this playin’ out going forward?” 

“Well,” said Buffy, biting her lip, “I don’t know. I mean, I’m struggling to live in the present right now. The future’s kind of….” She made a vague gesture with her hand. 

So, it wasn’t exactly the answer he wanted, but it was a hell of a lot better than the not-talking they’d been doing since that first kiss. “Buffy, I’m not askin’ you for anything. No promises, just….” He looked at her pleadingly. “Just a chance.” 

Buffy licked her lips. It was a nervous thing more than some attempt at seduction, like all the moisture had suddenly disappeared from her mouth. “Could we,” she said, cautiously, her cheeks aflame. “Could we, maybe... cuddle?”

Spike exhaled the last bit of tension in his body and pulled her into his arms. “We can do anything you want. Just let me love you.”

Buffy put her head on his shoulder and smiled against his throat. “I’d like that.” 


End file.
